


Speech For A Friend

by darkgreenwater



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: M/M, Sad, just a little eulogy type of thing but ofc theyre in love, post-death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-18 02:43:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21920527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkgreenwater/pseuds/darkgreenwater
Summary: Crozier revisits the abandoned ships six years after James' death. These are his words.
Relationships: Captain Francis Crozier/Commander James Fitzjames
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	Speech For A Friend

**Author's Note:**

> I just had this idea after watching the last episode - it's not much but it's some emotions.

Your ship has sailed eight years ago. You do not remember this place, these people. You do not remember me either, nor the colour of your own hair or eyes, for you can't - You are dead. 

Buried beneath ice that you do not remember - though it is hard to imagine you could forget this most crucial detail - the ice and its coldness that you cannot feel, its blinding white that you cannot see. 

Buried far away in an unmarked grave in a corner of the arctic desert, never to be found again. Far away from where my hands could reach and touch you once more, just one last time, because the good-byes hat we did say weren't enough for either of us. 

I stand here where we abandoned ship, the _TERROR_ and _EREBUS_ behind me. I do not care to look at them while my (new-found) people search them for left-over goods. I know they won't find anything after all this time but they don't know. I haven't told them anything. I do not wish to go aboard; I couldn't bear facing the greatest, most tragic of my defeats.

To have led and lost all m men, every last one of them, to have let them down and disappointed them after Sir John had entrusted me with the safekeeping of their future, is bigger than any other shame I've ever had to carry the burden of.   
To have failed _you_ , James, is a burden even greater. I am grateful my people don't have any mirrors - I could not endure to look at my reflection ever again. 

I've often wondered what is the use of reveling in memories of those we've lost, in remembering people that do not remember us - but now I know. It is for love. 

I regret not knowing the exact whereabouts of your grave, James. I would have liked to say all these things in person. I _should_ have said them when you were still around to hear them. I know you wouldn't have been flurstered, you wouldn't have laughed - you'd have understood. 

I had once asked you if one does not bring their habits to _TERROR_. I didn't explain to you then what that meant and, forgive me, but I will not explain it now, it would be futile. All you have to know, James, is that yes, one does, but _no_ , I did not bring my habits to our _relationship_ , as strange as it was. For one, I didn't rush into confessing my feelings this time. In fact, I kept those damned words to myself, until the very end. Until it was too late to say them at all. But I think that, despite my stubbornness and lack of communication, you still knew exactly which words I had kept from you. I just wish (for my own sake, mostly) that I had had the courage to let you die knowing for certain that I loved you. But at least I can let you _rest_ knowing that I still love you, James Fitzjames. 

It has been six years but I remember you, and shall always. Your story will be told, I am sure of it. Other people will remember you, for your cheer, your leadership, your wit, and your stories full of grandeur. And they will all be impressed. 

Francis


End file.
